


In Vino Veritas

by Nightingalesinmybrain



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Anidala, Fluff, missing moment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingalesinmybrain/pseuds/Nightingalesinmybrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senator Amidala has a bit too much to drink at a formal event. Fortunately, a certain Jedi Knight is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Anakin doubted anyone who didn't know his wife well even noticed anything was different about her. She laughed a little too loudly at Senator Organa's joke about Alderaan's school systems and almost missed her chair twice when sitting down.

In the flurry of festivities no one else even blinked, but knowing her as he did Anakin was fairly certain this was the drunkest he had ever seen her.

She was usually so good at holding her drink—better at it than him despite her petite frame if he was honest—but perhaps she lost track of how many times her glass was refilled while she rounded the room and conversed with her fellow senators.

Part of him did think it might not be so terrible for his overwhelmed wife to relax a bit and stop carrying the problems of the galaxy on her shoulders for just an evening. But if her unsteady dancing ended up plastered all over the HoloNet come tomorrow morning, he doubted Padme would agree.

Force forbid if she decided to sing.

So that meant it was time to take his intoxicated wife home, where his were the only eyes to witness her uncharacteristic clumsiness. She was lucky his mission ended in time for him to attend this gala and that he had managed to snag himself an invitation to be close to her tonight, so he could save her from the embarrassment he didn't need the Force to sense was approaching.

He had to act before the selected speakers began their droning—discussions on the good of the galaxy—or they would never be able to escape.

He had been planning to get his love alone when everyone was distracted by the dancing, but if there was one thing Anakin was good at it was improvisation. Seizing the moment, he approached the table where she had finally succeeded in sitting down.

Padme lowered her goblet and smiled widely at his approach, the brightness threatening to burn him. Dressed in deep blue—his favorite color on her—she was a vision.

"Hi, Ani." Her words tumbled out, a touch too loud considering their proximity. "How do you like the gala? I know you don't like fancy events, but this one is nice. Have you tried the Correlian wine?" Her Force signature, always the most vibrant in the room to him, was unusually swirled and chaotic.

"Come on, Padme, it's time to go home."

Padme blinked and adorably scrunched up her brow as she tried to understand him. "But the gala just started, Ani. And there's going to be dancing later. Don't you want to dance with me, Ani?"

"We can dance at home, if you like. Let's go."

Using the Force, he knocked the goblet off the table and what was left of the crimson wine spread across the white marble floor.

Padme frowned down at it, but before she could protest Anakin grabbed her hand and the wine was forgotten as she giggled and struggled to keep up with his long strides. Anakin often wondered how she walked in heels like those on normal days, now he feared she would fall if he let go of her hand even momentarily. If only he could just carry her out of this place.

"Is Senator Amidala alright?" In his haste, he almost hasn't seen Senator Motha standing just by the door.

"She's fine," Anakin replied, keeping his face impassive. "It just seems the hoi-broth didn't quite agree with her, so she's asked me to take her home."

Before the Chandrilan senator could respond, Anakin had pulled his wife out the door and then they were in the cool evening breeze, the first dusts of stars just appearing on the horizon.

He did a quick scan of the area and not sensing anyone nearby, slipped his wife into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to his starfighter.

Except for Padme's impulsive decision to start massaging his shoulders halfway home, which nearly made him crash into the nearest building, the trip was a smooth one.

After Anakin brushed off C3p0's frantic concerns about his mistress' apparent illness, the normally polished Senator Amidala lay flat on her bed, feet hanging off the edge. Dark hair pooled around her pale face, the contrast lovely in the rising moonlight creeping in through the blinds. Even disheveled like this, she was still the most beautiful creature Anakin had ever seen. He pulled off her right shoe (the left one having gotten lost somewhere along the way) and gently lifted her up to unfasten the ruffled gown. Without any help from her, the task was more difficult than anticipated. Besides being hidden in lace, the kriffing buttons refused to budge. Couldn't she ever order a dress that just slid on and off normally? Why were they all so complicated?

"Ani, do you love me?"

The abrupt question made him pause from his task and kiss her forehead. "Of course I love you, Angel. Why else would I put up with you?"

She giggled at his teasing. "I love you too, Ani."

Before he realized what she was doing, Padme was reaching for his belt and fumbling to unfasten it.

"Not now, Padme." He got out through gritted teeth, carefully removing her hands. "You need to rest."

She grumbled but settled back down and let him resume his battle with her outfit.

Finally finding all of the buttons and undoing them-victory! –he pulled the dress over Padme's head and tossed it somewhere on the floor. He would move it later so it wouldn't wrinkle. That would certainly make Padme grumpy in the morning.

By now Anakin knows every inch of his wife's body, could close his eyes and envision her breathtaking form perfectly (does, occasionally, when space got too cold and he had been away from her arms and her bed for too long) but he didn't dwell on it as he pulled her light purple nightgown over her head. He doubted she would mind him seeing her body even in this state, but since she didn't willingly bear herself to him tonight he covered her as quickly as possible.

What did Padme do the time he had a few too many drinks? The memory was a bit blurry, but he was pretty sure she made him drink a glass of water.

Pleased with himself for remembering, Anakin helped Padme get under the covers before heading to the kitchen.

"Here, Padme," he handed her the glass, keeping hold of it with the Force in case her fingers slipped. "Drink this so you'll feel better in the morning."

"I feel fine now. Do you want me to show you how fine?" She reached for his belt once more but that time Anakin took a step back before she could touch him.

"Just drink this first, okay?"

After the glass was empty he helped Padme back down, crawling in behind her as soon as she was settled. The night was still young, but the Jedi found he no longer had the energy or desire to do anything else. At least he and Padme were together, even if the evening didn't end in quite the way they had anticipated.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Good. Tired." Padme yawned. "I just wish the room would stop spinning. It's making me dizzy."

They were quiet then, as Anakin stroked Padme's hair while she lay in his arms. Without his Force senses he might have thought her asleep.

Eventually she lifted her head and turned to look at him, dark eyes staring straight into his soul.

"I miss you when you go, Ani." Her soft voice broke the hushed silence as quickly as it had settled. "I don't want you to leave again. Will you stay here with me?"

Something inside him tore and he struggled to retain his composure before her hopeful eyes. How many times had he longed to hear those words from her? Asking him to leave behind the Order and the war that seemed further and further from ending every day and just devote himself to her and the family they could have but was now only a cruel dream for them both.

Speaking as evenly as possible, he smiled down at her.

"All I am is yours, Angel. If you truly want me to leave, I'll do it right now."

Her responding smile was blinding. Instinctively he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, a gesture his wife enthusiastically returned.

Anakin knew that when his wife was sober again in the cold light of morning, she would passionately insist he stay with the Order at least until the war was over, fulfill his duty to the galaxy. He hoped she wouldn't remember this part of the evening at least, or it would make her hate herself more than a hangover ever could.

Padme drifted off shortly afterwards, her even breathing a lullaby in the darkness. The faint sounds of air traffic were the only reminders of the world outside their bedroom.

But Anakin found sleep eluded him now.

Absently stroking Padme's hair, he watched as the flickering lights on the ceiling turned from silver to gold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senator Amidala has a bit too much to drink at a formal event. Fortunately, a certain Jedi Knight is there to help.

The throbbing in her head was the first thing Padme was aware of upon regaining consciousness.

This was what she imagined a herd of banthas stampeding through her skull would feel like. Falling out of a gunship and tumbling down a sand dune hadn't been this unpleasant. Lacking the energy to even roll over, she squeezed her eyes tighter and prayed for oblivion.

Wait—slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting as the light burned them.

She was in her apartment in her own bed and she had no memory of how she had gotten there. That was rather unsettling. Well, what did she remember? She clearly remembered an early morning meeting the day before, arguing about whether or not to order more clones, and she definitely remembered the gala—the gala! Bits and pieces of the previous night began floating back to her, surreal as a fever dream. She recalled finally arriving after an exhausting week of committee meetings and debates and speeches, her schedule so packed she hardly even had time for meals. She remembered talking to Senator Organa about budgeting. At some point she was handed a glass of wine—that's right, she drank a fair amount of wine and from then on everything had been terribly funny and walking in a straight line became a challenge.

The memory made her burn with embarrassment, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and just stay there for the rest of time. Until now, Padme Amidala Naberrie-Skywalker—former Queen of Naboo and current senatorial representative of her home world—had never drank so much she felt ill the next day and she had certainly never drank so much she couldn't even remember it afterwards. And at an official event no less! How could she be so irresponsible? Someone might have noticed and informed the queen. Or worse, the HoloNet.

Panic set in. She sat up quickly and regretted it immediately as spots danced before her eyes and her head swam. For a moment she was certain she was about to vomit all over her covers, but then the feeling faded. Eyes adjusting to her blindingly bright apartment, she noticed a full glass of water on the nightstand.

Another memory hit her like a blaster bolt—Anakin.

Her husband had just returned from the front lines and he was there.

As if her thoughts had summoned him (and perhaps they actually had), her Jedi husband walked through the door clad in his darkest robes, blonde hair in disarray. He looked a bit tired, as always, but despite this he was still irritatingly handsome in the morning sunlight.

Padme didn't need a mirror to know she looked as looked awful as she felt. She could only wonder what he was thinking now as he regarded her. "Morning, Ani," she greeted him.

He returned her faint smile, but his eyes were dark with concern. "You don't look good."

Hungover or not, Padme would react to her husband's comment. "Thank you so much."

He snorted. "You know what I meant. You look like you aren't feeling well."

She shrugged, still a little abashed, even though this was Anakin and he would never judge her. "It will pass."

"Still, I'm sorry you feel sick, Angel. Can I get you anything?"

What she needed was answers. "Can you tell me what happened? How bad was it last night?"

"Not too bad," he replied, dropping down on the bed next to her. He gave her an apologetic look when the movement made her wince. "No one even noticed except for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "It was crowded and we left early so no one had time."

"Good." Padme rubbed her temple, thanking the gods Anakin had been there. His tendency to act quickly could be quite helpful at times.

"How much do you remember?" Anakin asked, watching her with a startling gleam in his blue eyes. She swore she would never get used to that gaze of his, no matter how many years of marriage they shared.

"Not much after we left the gala," she admitted.

"Do you remember coming home at all?"

"No," she replied, frowning in concentration. "Not really. Just getting on your starfighter and then waking up here."

He nodded and glanced down at the covers, fingers absently tracing circles in the fabric.

"Thank you for helping me," she sighed. "I can't believe I did that."

"It happens. And I'm sure that at some point all of those senators and state officials have been in the same place you were."

He was being sweet, trying to reassure her, and she should appreciate that. He got her out of the mess she had made the night before, he didn't need to hear her self pity now. But somehow she couldn't stop poking at the wound.

"Perhaps, but I don't think any of them did it at a formal event in front of representatives from all over the galaxy."

Anakin sighed and gently lay down next to her, carefully lining up his body next to hers. "Everyone slips up sometimes, Padme."

She exhaled sharply and turned to face him. "I don't have time to slip up, Ani. There's too much at stake. At this point I don't think I'll ever drink again."

Anakin laughed. "You'll get over that in time."

Padme disagreed, but wasn't in the mood to argue. "Thank you again for bringing me home," she said sincerely. "I really am sorry."

"Don't be. It's my duty as your husband to take care of you," Anakin smirked, earning himself an eye roll and a smack to the chest.

"My hero," she replied, only half jokingly. She decided against reminding him of the time she had helped him in a similar situation. This was Anakin, anyway. He had no shame.

"And at least you're a nice drunk. Some of the men get rowdy when they drink, and they're a lot bigger than you. Heck, you should see Obi Wan."

That made her smile, albeit weakly. "Well, I'm glad I was nice to you."

Something in his blue eyes flashed, but it was gone so quickly she wasn't certain if she had imagined it or not.

As much as she wanted to just pull the covers back over her head and stay there with her husband for the rest of the day, they both had duties to attend.

"What time is it? Won't they be missing you at the Temple?"

Usually Anakin was back at the Temple by dawn, and if the sunlight streaming through the blinds was any indication, it was well past that. When was the last time she slept this late? It was definitely before the war.

"Maybe. I'll tell them I got held up."

"You should go back," she sighed. "I'm sure you have a lot to do." And she didn't want to get him in any more trouble than he was probably already in.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine here. I might just work from home today, as much as I'm able."

Padme was well used to being the responsible one by now, but she still felt a twinge of disappointment when her husband obeyed her and sat up.

"Alright. Drink water and try to get some rest, okay?"

"I will. You'll be back tonight, won't you?" Their time together was precious and she regretted wasting it, but she would make it up to him later.

"Of course." Anakin smiled down at her, but it didn't quite touch his eyes.

Padme closed her eyes once more. Just a few more minutes and then she would finally get up and start her day. Queens don't get days off—she had worked through fevers and chills alike and got through it then. She would get through this now.

She felt a gentle pressure as a damp cloth was pressed against her forehead. Then the cool sheets rustled around her as Anakin readjusted them.

Suddenly his lips were on hers, soft and warm. "Goodbye, Angel. I'll see you tonight." Then all was quiet.

Sighing, Padme settled back into the covers. It seemed like everything turned out fine last night thanks to her husband, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right with Anakin. Maybe he was irritated with her for ruining their night and didn't want to show it while she was still sick. She would ask him again when he came back, make sure all was well between them.

That was, if she was still alive by evening. She winced as she reached for the glass of water on her nightstand, the movement increasing the pounding in her head. Now it was time to call C3P0 to fix her some breakfast and bring plenty of water. She had work to do.


End file.
